Reasons Have Little To Do With Seasons
by GhostHelwig
Summary: Sanzo has his reasons, even if they only make sense to him... Rated T for sexual innuendo and slash of the SanzoGoku variety... Contains small SPOILERS for up to manga vol. 7.


Disclaimer – I do not own Saiyuki. Therefore, kidnapping me would be pointless. All I own is shoes. Two pairs, to be exact...

Rated T for sexual innuendos and slash. Also, contains small **_SPOILERS_** for up to volume seven of the manga.

Dedicated to darthelwig, who is rushing me to post this right now... Sisters suck.

Anyway, enjoy. Peace, all.

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Reasons Have Little To Do With Seasons...

And Everything To Do With Inner Demons

i.e.

Heat

by Ghost Helwig

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There was a very simple reason Sanzo roomed with Hakkai. A reason beyond the fact that Hakkai's quiet presence irritated him the least, for the simple fact that it was, indeed, _quiet_.

He did not trust Gojyo not to touch him.

It wasn't that Gojyo had ever been known to molest anyone unwillingly, male or female, but sex simply _oozed_ off the half-breed – he was a walking bag of hormones, even a monk could see that. Or rather, he _sensed_ it, in the same way he had sensed that the Goku-clone Chin Yisou created wasn't the real deal – the knowledge slid along his skin, slipped into his brain, and he knew himself well enough to know not to question his instincts.

His instincts, after all, were far smarter than he was.

For there was another motive for him to stay away from both Gojyo and Goku, one that his instincts screamed at him and reason balked against.

For he did not trust Gojyo not to touch him-

And around Goku, he did not trust _himself_.

He knew what he wanted, what his own insatiable _hunger_ was for. It annoyed him, as so much annoyed him, because he wanted to be _better_ than such petty emotions as desire and passion. They _weakened_ you, weakened your resolve and your strength and your purpose. Look at Gojyo – he was a walking, talking, arguing _dick_ in more ways than one, consumed by his passions to a level that _disgusted_ Sanzo.

Though in a way, a way Sanzo could barely admit to himself that he felt, he was better than Hakkai, who so feared himself and what he was capable of that he left himself no passions at all.

That was what Sanzo thought he and Hakkai shared, what made them the same and yet very different – for reasons that were nothing and _everything_ alike, they had shut off their desires, their wants and needs and _heat_. But whereas Hakkai hid his emptiness behind false smiles, Sanzo released the one passion he had left to him, the only one he had allowed himself to retain-

_Anger_.

When he yelled at Goku, it was almost like kissing him. Hitting him with the paper fun was like fucking him. And shooting at him, well – Sanzo had a metaphor for that, too, a bitterly obvious one, one he was fairly certain a monk of his high ranking wasn't supposed to know.

That he _did_ know it, and thought of it in terms of Goku, had nothing – and, again, _everything_ – to do with him being a monk, and Goku's 'keeper', and someone Gojyo liked to try to freak out by sharing stories of his sexual escapades. If Gojyo had done even _half_ of what he'd claimed to, Sanzo would let him take his gold card on a shopping spree, no questions asked.

As it was, seeing the stupid monkey in a sexual light at all had stopped bothering him the instant he realized that he'd stopped seeing Goku as a child years before. Had he still seen his charge that way, and still been attracted to him in the way that he was, journey West be damned – he would've put a bullet in his brain then and there. He had no use nor respect for humans or youkai who sullied and sexualized that detestable group of (_overlarge insects_) people known as _children_.

But Goku was no child, and he was not attracted to children, and therefore he had (_unfortunately_) no excuse to use the quick, expedient way of avoiding dealing with this situation – in other words, none of this was bad enough that he could freely off himself. Or anyone else, for that matter.

But sometimes, late at night usually, with Hakkai across the room and across the world from him, without his anger and his purpose to fold himself in, Sanzo felt very... cold.

He knew precisely what could warm him, what could bring him out of his own hidden cave, but ever since his master had died, cold had been infinitely preferable to having that warmth – and then losing it, once again.

Genjyo Sanzo could take loss, could judge it unavoidable, accept the pain it caused, and still see it as preferable to the other.

But inside, Kouryuu the 'River Rat' could not.

And that pain that had happened before he met Goku was something the monkey could never touch – therefore, he could not heal it either.

So Sanzo slept in a different room, in a different bed, hiding in a different way than Hakkai but still _hiding_. From who he was, who he'd been-

Who he'd never be, because he could never let Goku in.

If that hurt, he could no longer feel it. If he cared at all, he no longer knew how to acknowledge it. He was wound too protectively around himself.

_A monk with his habit wrapped just a little too tight_, rang mockingly through his head. Fucking Gojyo.

He couldn't see a way to change this, wasn't even sure he wanted to. This way was safe, for both him and Goku, who couldn't possibly know, understand, or relate to what his 'master' was going through...

Maybe after the journey he could do something, say something, let Goku know...?

_No. **Never**_.

Goku didn't need someone who couldn't even feel, and Sanzo needed no one – especially no stupid monkeys he would have to _change_ for, to come out of his shell for...

To be vulnerable for.

Because _there_, that was the crux of his little problem. Part of him, the part that was strong and unbattered and _unbroken_, truly _wanted_ to be vulnerable to Goku. Wanted to be laid out and _seen_, seen like he hadn't been since his master had died, seen and _taken_, taken with love and with hunger and with horror and with force, wanted Goku inside him and fucking him and _claiming_ him and fucking _driving_ the nightmares out by force of will and his simple presence alone.

He could never let anyone know _that_. Genjyo Sanzo didn't let _anyone_ inside his heart, let alone inside his body. Damn stupid monkeys especially.

If that meant he had to live in the cold, so be it. He'd survived worse. Being warm and then falling into a world of lonely ice – _that_ was true suffering. And he'd been there. He would never go there again.

Even if that meant Goku would always be kept at arms-length. Even if that meant eventually the fucking _stupid, idiotic, annoying, **loveable** damn **monkey**_ found somebody else to give him the _heat_ Sanzo was incapable of (though inside, Sanzo bared his teeth at the thought). He could not change who he was and what he could give.

Koumyou Sanzo's death (_murder_) had set that in stone.

_If you meet Buddha, kill him. If you meet the patriarchs, kill them. Free of all, bound by nothing, you live your life simply as it is._

Now it was his own voice mocking him.

But it was the words he always clung to, the ones that had sustained him through all of the emptiness, the solemn nights and the wanting days, the words that had given him hope that one day he might find peace if he just learned to believe them.

Because sometimes, when he looked at Goku, he didn't believe in his ability to live those words at all.

And that was the secret he could let no one know.


End file.
